


The Warrior's Way

by FlitShadowflame



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cock & Ball Torture, Durincest, M/M, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlitShadowflame/pseuds/FlitShadowflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1162694#t1162694">HKM prompt</a>: "Young (not too young, mind) dwarves aren't allowed to orgasm until they've proved themselves in battle/craftsmanship/maturity. However, because they're young and hale they're still expected to offer favors to older dwarves as a sign of respect.  Kíli wears a chastity cage while Dwalin or Thorin fucks him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warrior's Way

Traditions could be distinctly unfair sometimes. Fíli had been given the opportunity to prove himself more than ten years ago, and despite being only five years younger, Kíli was nonetheless still caged. If his mother and brother (and uncle, he thought uncharitably) weren't so overprotective, he could be - well, he wouldn't have to wear this wretched thing and his brother would stop smirking at him in the mornings and holding him down to shave away what little beard Kíli could grow overnight.

And then fucking his mouth.

He didn't mind pleasuring Fíli, but he did resent that smirk, and he considered it decidedly unfair that the favor was never returned.

After the morning ritual was completed, they ate breakfast and joined Thorin in the smithy, learning and perfecting their craft. And on days like today, when Thorin glowered extra hard and nearly ruined his work by hammering too forecefully, Fíli would nudge Kíli and give a poorly concealed lie about one errand or another, and then he would leave the pair of them alone. And Kíli would roll his eyes and lay his hands on top of Thorin's to catch his attention.

"Sister-son."

"Will you not share your troubles, uncle?" Kíli asked softly. Thorin stroked the stubbled skin of Kíli's jaw and rested his forehead against his nephew's.

"You should not have to bear these burdens."

"And you should? No, don't answer that, I fear you'd say 'yes,'" Kíli shook his head. "Those who care for you would like to ease your mind, when we can. So put aside your cares for a few moments and focus on yourself. I promise I won't ruin your reputation as a worrywort," he teased.

"And you'll lie back and think of Erebor?" Thorin snorted.

"More likely I'll bend over and wish for this cursed cage off, but that's neither here nor there," Kíli answered. "And Fíli went to all the trouble of pretending he had somewhere else to be, won't you take advantage of it? I'm sure you tire of fucking a stripling boy but I assure you I am eager to bring you even a little happiness, Uncle. You have given much to Fíli and I, and we are ever yours to call upon, no matter the need." 

He leaned forward for a kiss, and Thorin let him.

But the sweet promise of Kíli's lips was not what Thorin wanted to feel. The ancient iron of his worries and cares needed a much hotter flame to make it malleable. Thorin broke the kiss bent Kíli over the still-warm anvil, loosing the young dwarf's breeches and pawing away the loincloth. His hand first gently traced the lines of the cage, a pretty   
thing made by Thorin himself, from alloyed silver. Most young dwarves were expected to honor any elder who asked for their favor, so long as basic propriety was followed. Fíli and Kíli, as heirs of Thorin's line, had more elegant cages signifying the much smaller pool of elders they were expected to honor, though they could bestow favor on whoever they wished outside that pool. And of course, Fíli was free of this obligation now.

"You shall have your opportunity to show your mettle soon. The ravens are returning to Erebor, and the dwarves I would lead on such an expedition include all those I would allow to have you. I know how reluctant you are to be parted from your brother, also, and he agreed last night to accompany me."

And the unfeeling bastard hadn't said a word to him, Kíli thought mutinously. Thorin, never one to waste time, was preparing Kíli's entrance even as he spoke.

"So you have two options, though I think I can guess your choice...be made an adult in the next two weeks, with a feat of smithcraft, or come prove yourself on the field of battle."

Kíli said firmly, "I am going with you, Uncle, even if it means spreading my legs for every dwarf in your company and all those we meet on the road."

"Not necessary, but the sentiment is appreciated," Thorin slapped the meat of Kíli's thigh and then gripped one cheek with each hand, spreading Kíli open as he buried himself within. "The list of those allowed to touch you will not change, though I'll tell Fíli to leave you alone if you wish."

"An empty promise, Uncle," Kíli said dismissively. Fíli wouldn't keep his hands off of Kíli even if Thorin ordered him to, not unless they were miles and miles apart.

The next slap made him jump a little, clenching involuntarily, and Thorin moaned, hips stuttering forward. "I'm entirely too lenient with you, boy," Thorin said, and suddenly a hand on Kíli's neck and shoulder pressed him down _hard_ to the unyielding metal of the anvil as Thorin slammed into him in earnest. The pounding was unrelenting, what with all the stress Thorin was working out of his body. Kíli focused on breathing - it was harder than expected, what with being crushed against the anvil. "I should have raised you with the firm hand I used on Fíli, so you'd have more respect, better discipline, less _sass_."

Kíli wheezed, feeling his sack grow heavy with arousal that his cock couldn't respond to. Gods, it ached, the confinement. His swollen dick strained against the metal and he thanked his lucky stars that the days of barbed cages were long gone. Even Thorin could not remember when those had been popular.

"Tomorrow, I mean to watch you ride Dwalin. He'll split you open if you don't prepare well beforehand, so get Fíli to spread you first, leave you dripping and gaping. I may take you again, to stretch you further. And when we've wrecked you and left you frustrated and limping, you're going to run messages to the dwarves of my company, and wait for their replies. And most likely at least some of them will plunder you again, so you spend the whole day sloppy and open. And after dinner, I will have you once more, because above all your obligations is our bond, and I shall not let you forget it."

Kíli was too breathless to reply. He clung to the anvil and gasped for air as Thorin drove into him harder.

"This quest won't be comfortable for you, a caged little fucktoy riding ponies and killing wargs. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer the smith's way?" Thorin smirked, pulling at Kíli's cock and making the younger dwarf cry out in pain as the cage caught on his swollen flesh.

"N-no," he gasped.

"I mean to bring our people home to Erebor, become king under the mountain once more. Is that how you would address your king? Are you a mannerless brat or a dwarf warrior of honor?"

"Y-aaah your majesty, please," Kíli begged, tears coming to his eyes. "Gods it hurts want to come please just once let me come."

"If you cannot handle a surfeit of pleasure, you will never be able to ignore pain in battle," Thorin said reasonably. "That is why we have the way of smiths. Those who cannot wait for a chance to prove themselves make their own. There is no dishonor in that, but one who has taken the way of smiths requires years of excelling in combat, before they can be trusted with so important a quest as this, where death is so likely. So, sister-son, what is it you truly want?"

Kíli sobbed, but slowly regained control of his voice, even with Thorin still pounding into him. "I - ah! - I wish to g-go with you...your Majesty. I w-won't take - nnnngh - take the way...way of smiths."

"And tomorrow?"

"Oh gods, oh gods, yes, I'll - I'll open my legs for every dwarf who asks, yes, ohhhh your Majesty please..."

"Please what, sister-son?"

"Please...take me harder," he moaned, because he couldn't ask for release but he wouldn't ask Thorin to stop. He was spilling precum all over the smithy floor, so his enjoyment was plain. Besides, now there was a promised end in sight, when the cage would come off and he could be his own dwarf for a while.

"Gladly," Thorin hummed, slamming in faster and deeper. He came with a grunt, the hand on Kíli's neck squeezing with bruising force. When he did pull away, Kíli slid to the floor, wheezing still.

"I think you bruised my ribs," he muttered. "Did you have to throw me down on an anvil to have your way with me? Your hammerings are never gentle, but I'm a bit more fragile than tempered steel."

Thorin's hands were on him again in an instant, feeling his ribcage tenderly. "Nothing broken. And only one or two little bruises, you big baby."

"Pain or pleasure I can handle, uncle. Both asks a little too much," Kíli grinned wryly. "I think, in light of tomorrow's promised events, I should take the afternoon off to get...clean. And rest."

"Don't forget to eat and drink," Thorin prodded his stomach. "The road will be long, and better if you store up when we are able."

"Yes _mother_ ," Kíli rolled his eyes before kissing Thorin's forehead. "I'll be fine. I'll be more than fine, and even if I do get in trouble, Fíli always helps me get out of it."

"Fíli usually helps you get into it," Thorin grumbled, but he fastened Kíli's trousers for him without casting further aspersions on his heir. "Go relax, boy. Tomorrow will be a long day."

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on a little sequel shot for this, but I have no idea when/if I will finish it.


End file.
